This is something that has been floating in my mind for a while, and I finally penned it down the other day. It's probably going to be a one-shot, unless I get writer's block on my other story (The Gang under the catagory The Outsiders) and decide to write more.
Enjoy!
"Look, are you in or out, Wesley?"
I glanced from Jared to Kyle to Bryan. They were all watching me impatiently, waiting for me to make my decision. Something inside of me wavered, but with an edge of determination, I nodded. "I'm in."
Jared got that gleam in his eyes he always got when we were about to do something stupid, and I suddenly regretted my decision. It was too late now though.
"Good. Everyone stay quiet, and stick close behind me." And with that, he was creeping through the shrubbery around the house. My heart pounded, and I swallowed nervously as Kyle gestured for me to go next. I knew what they were doing, putting me in the middle so I couldn't chicken out, and I felt my stomach churn a little as I realized I was really gonna do this.
With a tiny, shaky smile at Kyle, I ducked down and started following Jared. When he got to the back of the house, he stopped so abruptly that I bumped right into him. He turned and glared at me, and I just shrugged innocently.
Still seething, he took the crowbar out of his jacket and started prying at the window. "Hey man, are you sure they don't have an alarm?" I asked nervously, glancing around me again.
"Yes." He hissed, concentrating on his work.
It was silent for a few minutes, the only sounds that of the crowbar scratching against the window and that of my labored breathing.
"What if someone's home?" I whispered.
Finally pushing the window up, Jared turned to me. "They're on vacation, Wes. Get a grip. I've done this before, we all have," he growled, his eyes drilling into me.
His face was hard, icy, and I could see suddenly that crossing him would be a bad idea. A very bad idea. Besides, what could it hurt? I go in, we have a few beers, hang out, and leave.
No big deal.
So with a nod of recognition, I climbed in through the window first. Once I was inside, I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. The rest of the guys were still piling in, and I stood anxiously in the middle of the living room, my hands jingling the change in my pocket.
For lack of anything better to do, I walked over to the mantle and looked at the pictures there. In silver and mahogany frames sat black and white photos of a family of four. There was the daughter and the son, both smiling happily at the camera as if they had no worries, and then, sandwiching them, were the mom and the dad.
And the rush of hurt I felt then reminded me of why I was there in the first place. I'd never have another picture like that of my family. For all I knew, I'd never even see my dad again.
So with my animosity back, and perhaps stronger than ever, I joined the guys who were now in the house too as they popped the tops off a couple cans of beers and toasted each other, laughing wildly in celebration of this new accomplishment.
As I threw my head back and downed an entire can, I let the adrenaline push through my veins. There is something so addicting about doing wrong. I wasn't supposed to be there, and I knew that, but just the chance of getting caught was enough to make everything sharper, clearer. It was like being on drugs.
We all hung around, drinking and laughing, until the far-off sound of a siren turned all of us to ice. We sat stiffly, listening with panic striking our hearts, until we heard it veer off in a different direction, the sound fading out.
Only when I couldn't hear it anymore did I relax, and although I was suddenly uneasy with this entire situation again, the other guys seemed only to become even more animated.
"To us!" Jared toasted, raising his beer in the air and spilling it over the side of the can, his words slurred a tiny bit as the alcohol started to take effect.
I tapped my can against theirs with a smile on my face, but my eyes were drawn to the plush white carpet that the beer was staining. No one else seemed to care about the mess, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. Did we have any right to do this? Break into someone's house—no, someone's home—and damage his or her property? I mean, it was one thing to just go in and out, take a few beers and leave, but I was suddenly aware that nothing was ever that simple.
And that was when the sirens screamed closer. They were nearer than the last ones had been, and I knew that they were coming for us. Jared, Kyle and Brian seemed to know this too, and they all abandoned their beers as they scrambled for the window in the back.
They each leapt through and rolled on the dirt, softening the fall, before they jumped to their feet and took off running. I was left standing in the middle of the house as the cop car skidded to a stop in the front.
Some friends.
My mind panicked and I ran for the window too, doing just as I had seen my partners-in-crime do a few moments before, but as I started to run, I heard the footsteps pound behind me as a police officer chased me.
My breath coming short and fast, my feet moved faster than they ever have before, the twigs of the forest whipping at my skin and clothing.
I would have gotten away, for better or for worse, if I hadn't tripped on a tree root that twisted out of the ground. I was sent flying into the dirt, letting out a soft groan as I landed hard on my stomach.
It was over, and I knew that, so I didn't even try to get up and run again. The cop got to me and sat on my legs, cuffing my arms behind my back. He slapped the cold metal onto my wrist hard and tight, and I couldn't help but wince as it chafed my skin. Then he yanked me up roughly, starting to push me back through the woods to his car.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
This was really happening to me. I was being arrested.
"You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you free of charge," the officer spoke the words easily—he must have memorized them by now—but my mind could barely take in the fact that any of this was happening, let alone what he was saying.
"Do you understand your rights?"
I wondered what happened to Jared and Kyle and Bryan. If they had gotten away, should I give the police their names? It seemed a wicked thing to do, betray them, but they hadn't much cared about me when they took off running.
"Do you understand your rights?" The officer asked again, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice.
I nodded, and managed to choke out a "yes" as he pushed me into the backseat and shut the door to his car. He walked around and climbed in, and I sat there, staring at the bars that separated me from him. The good from the bad. The right from the wrong. The heroes from the villains.
I'd never thought I'd be on this side.